Don't Let Me Sleep
by Bunni English
Summary: Sufferer & Disciple. The ancestors of Karkat and Nepeta converse about the Sufferer's dreams and visions. The Disciple fears he might be doubting himself, and uses their love to make him see the light.


**Characters copyright Homestuck. They belong to Andrew Hussie. **

**Please note that the way these characters are portrayed may not be the way they realy act. This is just a dramatic, fluffy FanFiction about the Disciple and the Signless. Please enjoy. :o) HONK.**

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><p>His eyes were closed, his chest rising and falling slowly as he slept. It was beautiful. He was beautiful. The Signless was a hope, a dream, a dreamer. All he wanted was freedom, and she knew he would stop at nothing to get it. Not even the High Bloods could stop him, she was sure. She knew deep down in her heart. The Disciple knew he was capable of anything. Anything.<p>

She stepped closer to his bedside, her feet silent on the stone floor. The Signless's eyes flicked open, and his body became still. The Disciple paused, watching her love as he turned his head to peer into the shadows.

"Who's there?" He asked, his voice deep and calm. She knew he would never raise his voice against one of his own.

The Disciple stayed in the shadows, unmoving. She looked away, not willing to let herself be found by her green eyes shining in the darkness. The Signless sat up, his dark eyes scanning the area around him. From his movements she could tell he was in pain, as he always was now a days. She recalled his more recent stand against the High Bloods. In her mind she saw him yelling to the sky in an outrage until his voice became hoarse and raw. She remembered the volley of arrows that made him kneel, and the bloood, his blood, that had stained the ground.

The Sufferer sat on the edge of his cot now, his body tense and ready to spring. She still watched him, taking in every feature she had learned by heart: his red gaze, dark grey skin, lean build, and his black hair parted by two horns the color of sand. These were everything to her, they were the things she lived for.

"Dolorosa? Disciple?" The Signless called into the shadows, breaking her from her thoughts. She moved toward him, into the light so he could see her.

"I'm here." She said softly, moving closer. The Signless sighed, closing his eyes. He sighed in relief, and the Disciple saw the tension in his body slip away.

"I thought you were a High Blood or one of their servants who had snuck in here." He confided with another sigh, opening his eyes to gaze up at the Disciple. She knew what he dreamed when he didn't dream of the free world, or when he didn't have visions of a world that blood color didn't matter. With a sigh she sat beside him, brushing a stray piece of hair from his face.

"You must rest, my love." She murmured, leaning toward him to kiss the bare skin of his forehead. He looked away, his shoulders sagging. It hurt the Disciple to see him that way. He looked so worn and tired, like a troll twice his age, yet he was young. He didn't deserve the punishments the High Bloods gave him. 'He shouldn't have to fight for these things either, but he does, because he hopes and dreams. Because he loves.' She thought, gazing at her love with admiration and pride.

"I want to sleep, my Disciple. When I close my eyes I see that perfect world, but after some time it changes into a dark world stained with blood. Oceans and oceans of blood. And the High Bloods... they just stand over it all. They don't care. That is what I fear will become of Alternia if things do not change soon." He told her, closing his eyes once more as if it imagine it. The Disciple rested a hand on his shoulder, making him open his eyes to look at her.

"You are capable of those changes, my love. I know you will not let your nightmares become reality when you imagine such a beautiful world." She told him. The Sufferer turned away.

"I'm tired of fighting them. They won't listen. They won't accept what I say... what I dream. They do not hope. They do not dream or think capabale of such changes. They do not, and will not, understand. They will not listen to me. They do not care, my Disciple." The Signless whispered, his voice gentle and soft. She leaned closer, taking him in her arms.

"All in good time, Signless." She said. He shook in her arms, tears the color of his blood trickling silently from his eyes. He was crying. It proved so much to the Disciple: that he had feelings, that he too was strong enough to cry. He didn't care what she thought, or he did, and he just wanted her comfort. She held him closer, letting him lean into her chest as he cried. Together they sat in the shadows, leaning into eachother's embrace as time slowly passed. The Disciple did not mind her love's presence so close to her, nor did she think he minded her so close to him.

Finally the Signless pulled away, his eyes dry of tears and blood.

"I'm afraid I'm not strong enough to make them believe, Disciple." He said quietly, holding himself as if he was cold. Then he looked down at his hands, worn and torn from many fights and tortures. They were a criminals' hands, a thiefs' hands. Not the hands of a savior.

"I believe in you, my love. I believe because I know you are capable of making your dreams reality. Don't give up. Not now, not ever. Signless, you've come too far to let it all go. We've come to far." She said, taking his hands in hers. He met her gaze, then nodded, pulling away.

For a few minutes they sat in silence, then the Sufferer reached to her, caressing her cheek. He moved toward her, gently meeting her lips with his. They both sat still, eyes closed. Then he pulled away, his eyes light with fire and power. There was no doubt in him. There was no evidence of him trying to give up. He was prepared to fight a new day, and reach for the stars he knew that were in the sky.

"Sleep now. You must rest." She whispered, getting up. The Signless took her hand, and she turned to look at him.

"Please stay. You grant me dreams as wonderful as your presence." He said, eyes fixed on hers. She nodded and sat back down, leaning forward to kiss his cheek.

"For you, my love, I would do anything." She whispered. He smiled.

The Disciple cradled him in her arms, smiling down at him as he gave in to sleep. She imiagined this was what the Dolorosa had seen when he was a child: a hansome boy with dreams as big as the sky. With a content sigh she leaned over him, gently planting a kiss on his cheek.

"Sleep well, my Signless. Let your dreams give us a new hope."


End file.
